Chapter 32
♪ I didn't know what you were going through ♪
Lyra: “Judicé was it? Forgive me, but I've yet to hear such a name.”
Placing my hand on my chin I started to think, Am I just mixing up what they told me about who betrayed them..? No, no. I’m sure it was Judicé… I don’t have enough information. “If that’s the case, there may be someone following you with the intention of becoming part of your party… Which is definitely not me, I assure you!”
Malady gave me a suspicious look like a lion looking at a mouse, ready to pounce. Ahhh, but I need to get to Valleyport asap for the slime invasion! Maybe… “Surely you can request further hospitality from the young lady Elbereth for another week, no? I doubt any group of bandits will be patient enough to wait a week for your appearance. In the meantime, a scout or ranger from your party may be able to locate the ruffians for subjugation.”
Lyra: “Forgive me, but if we’re to discuss such matters, the [Knight Commander] must be present according to father’s ordinances. I wouldn’t be opposed to staying with my dear friend a while longer, and I’m certain my father would place my safety above timely prudence. Even so, I am not of the appropriate station to decide for myself. Sir Gildor should be arriving shortly. It isn’t like him to be tardy to such a meeting...”
Sir Faelyn bowed slightly with hand over heart when Lyra glanced over at him, “Yes, milady,” and smoothly left the room with scarcely a sound. I’m just gonna assume she signaled him to look for Gildor. Before taking his leave down the hall, Sir Faelyn had a brief conversation with one of the guards posted outside of the room when that guard came in. Ha. I figured they wouldn’t trust me around Lyra and Malady without a guard. Meh, whatever.
Lyra: “Please forgive the rudeness. We simply…” I cut her off there with the raise of a hand. To add onto the notion, I explained my understanding of the situation, “There’s nothing to forgive. ‘Tis only natural to place your safety first and to inquire about where your subordinates are. After all, something important may be occupying him.”
In the building across the courtyard from the guest lodgings:
Kirik Arruns Pomponius Banquerius Kaeso Maelius Constans retired to his chambers within the royal guest house. Lacquered lavishly with all manner of decorum befitting his royal stature, the building was significantly gaudier than that of Lyriath’s. Kirik rode atop his make-believe throne while decked out in equally gaudy clothing. Now when I say ‘rode atop’ I do mean he rode it, like one rides on a wagon. The glaring difference being that there were no horses, nor any wagon. Rather, he was being paraded around his room while sitting atop a large, silver chair by his servants who had lifted the “throne” on their backs.
You’d be hard-pressed to find a giddier face on a schoolgirl playing jump rope with her best friends than the face of the well-fed prince celebrating himself. It wasn’t until his subordinate arrived that he began to whip his servants and demand to be put down.
Kirik: “Clear the room!” he bellowed at his slaves. “Ah, Judice. I was unable to secure your position in the Avacyn caravan. Something about being on the alert for adding additional guards. We’ll have to go with plan B.”
Judice, the shady man who followed Kirik out of the guest lodging when Tru passed them said, “I hear and obey.”
Like mist in the night, he faded into the shadow. Despite his being the only one in the room, Kirik continued to talk to himself aloud, “What was plan B again? Kidnap her in the dead of night… or was it to stalk their caravan and set off a signal for the slavers? Bah, I’ll leave the details to Judice.” With a squealing voice that betrayed Kirik’s age, he continues, “Oh, I can’t wait! To be enraptured in the supreme bliss of marring her perfect night elf skin.” A shiver went down his spine that could have either been from excitement or the wind blowing through the open window. When he noticed the window, a bell was rung, and he demanded it shut prior to brutalizing the maid with his whip. “You… stupid… slave..! How… could you… expose… me.. To the cold... Breeze!”
He didn’t relent until she laid there motionless on the floor, her skin split open in numerous lines across her face and torso beneath her now shredded maid's dress. He gasped for air, “Huff… Huff” preceding the ring of his hollow-sounding bell that signaled for one of the male slaves, “Huff Take care of… the new girl… Father will give me an earful… if another one dies.” But after he finished speaking, he turned to see someone other than his male servant, “Huh?! Who are you?!”
From the perspective of Gildor, the Knight Commander, as Tru walked into the guest building:
Hmph. That must be Sir Coon up ahead. It would seem that they beat me here… Tru and Syunir reached the guest building on the Elbereth estate and walked inside without even needing to show their crest to the guard. Likely due to Faelyn being the [Knight Captain] of Shalanor. Bah, I’m not far behind at least. This can’t be considered late, right?
Elbereth Guard: “Why, if it isn’t the ‘Bear of Kulkne’. Did you find what you needed in the town, sir?”
Me: “Mmm. The town lay is simple enough.”
Elbereth Guard: “Glad to hear it. You’ve tried some of Timmy’s Finest, yeah? Your family crest please.”
I lifted a necklace from beneath my breastplate and put it right back when the guard confirmed the house to which my allegiance belongs, “Mmm. An invigorating brew to say the least.”
Elbereth Guard: “You’re damn right about that! Go on ahead. I believe you know the way to your suite, yeah?
I just nodded and answered with the usual grunt, “Mmm.” They have a friendly accent here when they ain’t standin’ on ceremony.
Tru and Syunir were nearly to the apartment, and ahead of them… That’s the prince of Namor. Prince Krooky Erroneous Pompous Constipation or somethin’. He had the appearance of a human and a pig; someone who heavily overindulged and never experienced an ounce of physical training in his life. My boots weren’t too loud as I got closer, so when he stopped to speak to Tru and Syunir, I could make out most of the conversation.
Krooky Erroneous Pompous Constipation: “Why, sir. You wouldn’t be on your way to show your face to the purple she-devil by happenstance?” Tsk Everyone knows you’re the real devil here, punk. His vile reputation for kidnapping and support for the slave trade speaks for itself.
Truck Coon: “Quite right, your highness. Although, I don’t believe we share the same opinion of her.” Fair enough reply, I suppose. Maybe I was right about the guy afterall.
Krooky Erroneous Pompous Constipation: “Eh? But I wasn’t referring specifically to Lyriath though, was I? That must be what you really think of her then… well, let’s stop stating the obvious. Do you, as a self-respecting human, really think she has the acumen to lead? I think not. My humble regards to the she-devil. Let’s go.”
The conversation infuriated me. Such a pompous, erroneous, always constipated looking crook can only be filled with unjustified disrespect and deceit… As they moved to pass me in the hall, I moved out of the way and stood at attention like any knight would in this situation, despite the urge to sock the belligerent prince in the mouth.
What I never expected, was the next thing he said, “We need to figure out how to own her before she leaves.” I doubt he’d ever say that, had he known who it was he just passed, even though he made the attempt to say it under his breath. Too bad for him, walking is such a chore he’s already out of breath after this much. Needless to say, I couldn’t just let that slide and decided to forgo the appointment and tail the prince and his entourage.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The Elder led them to the royal guesthouse and showed his crest to let the humans enter before taking his leave. There’s no way I can get in through the front… Scanning the area showed a grove of trees that created a half moon shape all around the rear of the royal guesthouse, and being that our own guesthouse wasn’t far off, I headed into the thicket to ‘inspect milady’s surroundings’. Well, that’s what I’ll say if I get stopped anyway.
Several guards walked by and waved to me, but none stopped me, even the last one, who clearly caught me checking out the exterior of the Royal Guesthouse for a way in. It’s almost like they’re encouraging me to go in.
A beautiful young lady cleaned a window when she spotted me without my noticing. Her voice alarmed me when I heard her yawn prior to looking down to me and said, “Such a beautiful day, Sir.” She shot me a bewitching smile and turned with enough vigor to let her long red hair drift in the wind. Beautiful… But I shook my head and remembered my mission amongst a torrent of feelings surging through me. Did she… leave the window open on purpose? I used my skill [Into the Fray] from the [Paladin] class to leap into the unknown. I could see that the constipated prince was alone in the room and heard him mid-sentence, “…can’t wait! To be enraptured in the supreme bliss of marring her perfect night elf skin.”
I’ve heard enough. Tru was definitely right that someone is after little lady Lyriath… But before I could make a move, the prince shivered and turned toward me. I quickly hid behind the curtains that blew slightly in the wind when his slothful movements began to face my direction. Once he looked at the window, I was bathed in relief that he didn’t see me when he merely sounded a light bell. Could he have noticed me?! But rather than calling for protection, the same young maid that had so graciously opened the window for me appeared.
???: “You called my lord?” the young maid rushed to heed him and went down on one knee before he ruthlessly began to beat her. Not long after, the small woman had been rendered unconscious with a swollen face, bruises all over, and skin that was split open in multiple areas, leaving scars that she'll probably carry the rest of her life... I'd hesitated to respond to his barbarism because of his status, but couldn't bare to let someone so innocent die before my eyes. As I made my way to rescue the girl, the prince of lard rang a deeper sounding bell and by the time he’d noticed me, all he could say was, “Who are you, oh gallant and strong knight?” or something like that. It was all he could say as a swift gauntlet pulverized his face, leaving him in a comatose with a dislocated jaw.
From the perspective of Truck Coon:
Lyra jumped right back into more questions of America as soon as the door’d been shut again, “So, back to our prior discussion. I am so very interested in what life is typically like back in, A-mer-ica I believe you said it was called. Please, do tell more Sir Coon!” Deep blue eyes glimmered at me with curiosity that betrayed her previously elegant countenance.
I put a hand over my chin to think for a brief moment and indulged her expectation, “Where to begin? We rarely make use of magic in our country. We hold research of the physical world in higher regard and call this practice science. With science, we’ve created machines that travel faster than any horse, fly faster than any bird, dive deep to the depths of the ocean, and of course live significantly more comfortably than what I’ve experienced thus far in this land.”
Lyra let out a great mirth of excitement, “Wow! That’s amazing! You wouldn’t happen to be one of those researchers, would you?”
Me: “Oh certainly not. I am… what you might call a mathematician? I organize complex financial matters for the state and federal government. Although, I did thoroughly enjoy learning different sciences while in university. Have you attended something like an academy, young miss?”
Lyra: “We have nothing like an academy in Kulkne, but I’ve heard of such institutions in the human realms. That’s not to say I am uneducated. I was merely given my own personal tutor.”
Me: “Ah, I see. I know of many in my own country who follow the same practice such as my cousins. That is only acceptable in the years prior to university though. To get a college degree, like the one I have, you must attend a college or university.”
Lyra had started writing in a notebook she pulled from a small bag of extravagant design, “I see, I see. Is it possible to meet with your elder… I mean king to discuss friendly relations with the city state of Kulkne?”
I grinned softly at her and her thirst for knowledge. What can I say? It's delightful to have such a lovely woman display such an interest in getting to know where I come from. I opened my mouth to expound, “Firstly, we have no king. America is a Democratic Republic. The people elect officials every few years to represent their interests before a congress. The congress proposes laws and amendments to the senate, who turn those propositions into policy. The office which governs foreign affairs would be the Secretary of State who leads the Department of State; a part of the executive branch in our government. You would need to meet with him. If we could contact my father, he knows how to set up a meeting with the Secretary, but it’d be the president that makes the final call. So, I wouldn’t be able to help establish relations the way you’re thinking. However, my country has a policy of establishing friendly ties with non-hostile nations. Not that we can even contact my home from here.” I mean… we’re probably billions of lightyears away from earth, if even in the same universe.
At this point, Lyra’s quill was writing ferociously. It surprised me when I took a glance at the paper. To see such neat handwriting coming from penmanship of such animosity… I mean, I could practically see the smoke rising from her pen!
Lyra: “That’s a shame. What of your childhood Sir Coo-” Suddenly, a gust of wind came from the door as a result of it being thrown open with tremendous force. The guard gracefully tumbled to his feet after being thrown several meters by the doors aggressive opening. Before I could even open my eyes to see what it was, Gildor’s voice resounded, “Emergency, Milady! We make haste for Kulkne at once!”
At first, Malady stared at me coldly with suspicion, but Gildor vouched for me, “I’ve already verified Tru’s warning. We haven’t a moment to waste!” Everyone followed his instruction without a word and prepared to flea down the hall. It only took them several moments before Malady had stored all of Lyra’s luggage in sturdy-looking bags that piled atop her back, making her look more like an overburdened pack mule than a [Rogue Maid]. Several times, I'd caught her glance purely from the cold feeling I got from her glare. Malady is definitely getting a wrong impression of my intent... I can only hope her opinion of me changes gradually I guess...
Gildor carried a sleeping person strapped to his back, but at first I’d thought it was just another bag. In fact, the only reason I could tell it was a person was from the steady rising and falling motion that comes with breathing. Once you get the idea of him carrying a person in mind, it becomes apparent by the look that he’s carrying a person. Knowing the chivalry of all who call themselves a knight, I assumed that he’d saved whoever was in there and was being chased. Of course, being an aspiring knight myself, or so I pretended to be, I lent my aid, “I don’t know what’s going on. But I’ll help you save that person.”
The man whose stature matched that of a bear looked at me with alarm, probably because I knew he was carrying a person, but reluctantly nodded in acceptance of my offer. Now that I think about it, by mentioning the person, I kind of didn’t give him a choice but to either accept my help or silence me. I mean, if he refused and I went to the guards with the info, they’ll prob find themselves in an even more precarious situation.
We all walked swiftly down the hall. The ‘we all’ that I’m referring to here is the Kulkne guards, Gildor, Lyra, Malady, and of course myself. Their contingent consisted of 25 guards, so there were 10 posted in front and 15 posted in the rear. Gildor obviously accompanied the two beautiful young ladies as their personal guardian. I just situated myself slightly in front of them. Clearly, I was out of place. My robes didn’t match the Kulkne guard’s or knight’s uniforms, but had the distinct look of some occultic magic caster or some sort of uncharacteristically threatening scholar with a freakishly massive, not to mention horrifying, greatswordstaff made of bone and veins that visibly pumped blood from the living, golden eye along extensive tear ducts.
Since we’re trying to get Lyra out of here safely, the idea dawned on me, “Hey Lyr..iath, would you be opposed to wearing my [Robe of the Scholar] as a disguise?”
Lyra: “What do you think, Gildor?”
Gildor: “Makes sense. If you aren’t averse to it, you should, milady.”
And like that, I wore my torn suit, Lyra had her figure completely hidden by the robe, and our party continued out of the Elbereth estate into the city of Shalanor.
From the perspective of Luke:
On the road to subjugate the Orcs, Guy entered our wagon to inform us of something that kinda took me by surprise.
Guy: “I’m sure you’ve noticed, but there seems to be a party that’s joined the subjugation force with a different intention than to deal with the Orc Settlement.”
Kraft: “Ah, yeah we have. The party is [Blade of Cold Night], right? They’ve been eyeing me and Whinry ever since we stored the gear into the storage item on the first day.”
Guy: “Exactly. If your group and Lucerne are targeted by them, consider their apprehension a guild quest posted by me.”
Me: “Wait, wait, wait, they’ve been watching us? I never even noticed. They couldn’t have been releasing any bloodlust or I would’ve picked up on it with my skill…”
Kraft: “Right. No bloodlust, just envy. What they don’t know is it’s less of a storage item and more of a spatial skill. So even if they try to take somethin’, there’s nothin’ to take.”
Me: “Huh?! But you said your ring was the item the other day.”
Kraft: “Ha, in a way it is. The only way we got our spatial skill is because we were married when we completed a dungeon. Wasn’t no normal dungeon though. There was no dungeon core, and instead of a final boss room, there was a house! Once we learned the unique skill in the house, the dungeon collapsed though. Some ghost said it was an age of the gods skill.”
Me: “Oh, okay then. You gave me hope for finding my own storage item. But I guess that’s not going to happen.” Tsk, I guess a storage item won’t be that easy to come across…
Guy: “Anyway, [Blade of Cold Night] may try to do a sneak attack once the operation commences. I’m off to make my rounds.”
Once the guild leader butler dude took off, things seemed to just go back to normal with no more discussion of the heinous party in our caravan. Light conversation mixed with laughter made the long travel feel faster than it actually was. I think it’s been 30-some hours by now. The fourth sun still hadn’t begun to set, but the guild leader called for everyone to stop. Apparently, we’d made it to our designated location prior to the attack.
[Oath of Fortune] started to unpack the necessary tents for a command unit as well as a medical tent and food tent. That’s when I noticed that the married couple had to hold hands in order to access their spatial storage… skill.
Every party’s leader grouped up in the command tent, which was significantly larger than any other tent to be officially assigned roles. I spoke up when I remembered a more recently acquired stance that I’d gained on my way to Valleyport, “I know that I volunteered as a scout earlier, but I’d like to mention that I have a flying skill. There’s no point in sending a group of scouts on the ground if they may be found out and alert the Orcs to our attack.
A mage spoke up in protest against the use of a flying skill, “Flying skills always give off a trail of light. It’d be useless if you were seen clearly in the sky because of some light show.”
Me: “My flying skill is called [Gryphon Stance]. While yes, the runes carved in my body glow as the skill activates, I become a perfectly normal [Gryphon] once it’s activated.”
The mage nodded his head with closed eyes, trying to picture how it’d work I guess. Guy spoke up, “Are there any who oppose that scouting strategy?” When all of the party leaders gave their approval, the strategy meeting continued to establish the final plan before we meet the Orcs in battle.